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Jane could not quite picture it. “That would have shocked Miss Bingley,” she said.
Maggie gestured wildly. “I don’t know how you stay so calm about it. Me, I’d be spitting mad by now. If you don’t mind me saying so.”
Suddenly the accumulated tension of the day caught up with Jane; her legs could barely support her. Sinking onto the stool of the dressing table, she caught a glimpse of her drawn face in the mirror.
Many other women would be angry, Jane supposed. Lizzy. Lydia. Her mother. But Jane was the sister who did not make a fuss. She did not demand. She did not protest. Papa called her “the quiet one.” Jane could be counted upon to bring Mama her tea when she had an attack of nerves. Or to mediate any dispute between Kitty and Lydia. To remain calm no matter what happened. That was who she was.
Even when your friend was revealed to be false.
Of course, none of this could be shared with the maid. “Are you at all acquainted with Miss Bingley?” Perhaps Maggie had heard some rumors; Jane could conceive no other reason to raise the subject with her.
“No, miss. Not at all. But I am acquainted with Mr. Bingley’s valet, Joseph. That is to say, Mr. Harvey.” The girl colored faintly. She had red hair and the very pale skin that often accompanied it.
Jane felt a faint spark of hope, although she did not know how Maggie’s acquaintance might benefit the lowly Miss Bennet. “I see.”
“Miss Bingley gives her brother a world of trouble. He has
complained about her to Joseph.”
“Do you know if Miss Bingley encouraged her brother to leave Netherfield?” The words were out before Jane could have second thoughts. She should not be gossiping with her aunt’s maid, but the question was one she often had wondered about—and it was such a relief to share her woes with a sympathetic listener. Aunt Gardiner attended to Jane’s anxieties, but she was very busy with her children—and often inclined to give advice about “forgetting” Mr. Bingley. Jane did not believe such a feat was possible.
“I don’t know, but I can ask.”
Jane said nothing, torn between her need to learn the truth and her quite proper desire to avoid gossip.
She caught another glimpse of her wan reflection in the mirror. What did it signify? “No, it matters not. My path and Mr. Bingley’s are unlikely to cross again.”
Maggie’s reflection—standing behind Jane’s—frowned. “Why is that?”
“We do not run in the same circles, and Miss Bingley seems inclined to discontinue the acquaintance.”
Maggie shook her head, making her red curls bounce. “Och, people of quality make everything so hard. If I liked a fellow, I would just go up and knock on his door.”
Jane stifled a laugh. “Would that it were so simple.”
Emboldened, Maggie stepped a little closer to Jane and lowered her voice. “I could ask Joseph about Mr. Bingley’s schedule so you might find him and speak with him.”
Jane gave the maid a sad smile. “I thank you for the offer, but I could not possibly approach Mr. Bingley. It would be unpardonably forward.”
“But if you was to know where Mr. Bingley would be, you could arrange to encounter him—all accidental like—with him none the wiser.” Such deviousness would never have occurred to Jane. Her mouth hung open as she stared at Maggie. “Like, if he was riding in Rotten Row one day, you could be, too,” the maid clarified.
“I do not own a horse,” Jane said softly.
Maggie waved this objection away. “That was just an example. He could be going any number of places. Gentlemen like him do, you know.”
It was a tantalizing suggestion. Jane was tempted to accept Maggie’s offer just for the opportunity to lay her eyes on Mr. Bingley one more time. But if she should converse with him—and if he remained ignorant of her presence in London…? Then perhaps he might pay the Gardiners a call, and they could renew their acquaintance.
But…the whole scheme was so deceptive. She would need to fool not only Mr. Bingley but also her aunt and uncle. She could hardly inform them that she was leaving for the day to pursue a gentleman! Jane gave a sharp shake of her head. “No. I thank you for the offer of assistance.”
Maggie shrugged. “As you wish, miss.” Jane nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Maggie gave a quick curtsey and busied herself hanging Jane’s gown before leaving the room.
When Jane turned back to her dressing table, her eyes were caught by a piece of paper: her unfinished letter to Lizzy. In it, Jane had admitted how wrong she had been about Miss Bingley’s character—and how she suspected the woman of deliberately separating Jane from her brother.
What would Lizzy do in these circumstances? Would she simply accept that Miss Bingley had engineered a separation and there was nothing to be done? Or would Lizzy discover a way to correct the situation? If Lizzy sat in this room, what would she advise Jane to do?
Jane whirled around, calling for Maggie before she quitted the room.
“Miss?” The maid stopped on the threshold.
